


Linear Fit

by quietestfeeling



Category: Scandal (TV)
Genre: Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Kid Fic, Physical Abuse, Possible kink in future chapters, Slow Burn, definite smut as the series progresses i'll change the rating as it goes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-21
Updated: 2018-12-21
Packaged: 2019-09-24 02:30:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17092364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quietestfeeling/pseuds/quietestfeeling
Summary: Alternate Universe. D/Abby Centric.Abby marries Chip straight out of law school and adopts a son after failing to conceive. Olivia quit for good her first day managing Fitz's campaign. Defiance still happens, just without her. David still gets smeared in court over the Molotov Mistress trial. He teaches kindergarten now, Milo Putney happens to land himself in his class.(Updates will probably be slow and chapters will probably be short. Prolificacy is not my strong suit. Crying over Dabby is.)





	Linear Fit

**Author's Note:**

> hello i haven't written fic in 10 years but i'm still depressed over dabby so this shit happens xoxo

_May 7th, 2006._

The first time Chip had ever hit her, she was on the phone with her friend from law school, Olivia Pope. A lifelong democrat and staunch believer in pacifism, Abby had casually commented that she secretly hoped the new gun control bill would pass in the Senate, too caught up in her conversation to hear her husband return home. Looking up as she refilled her wineglass, Abby's face paled when she saw Chip standing at the front door. "Sorry Liv, gotta go," she mutters, not bothering with an explanation before hanging up. Charles had grown increasingly foul-tempered over the past few months. If he had presented the charismatic, kind side of himself that frequented television screens and rallies when they first met, he now had no qualms about showing her exactly who he was, frequently taking his anger from a bad day on the Hill out on his wife— calling her worthless, stupid, and any of a wide assortment of profanities in his ledger. He consistently criticised everything she did, disagreeing with every choice she made in regards to their home and suggested that she not leave the house for fear of her embarrassing him and tarnishing his reputation. All these, said in the heat of anger, were followed by quick apologies and bandaged up with shoes, clothes, jewellery and the like. 

Before Abby could assume her full height or open her mouth, Chip came over in large strides, cracking an open palm across her face. The force of the blow, paired with her paralysing shock, sent the redhead back down into her chair. _He’s never hit me before,_ she thinks mutely, raising a thin hand to touch the stinging flesh. “All I fuckin’ need from you is your goddamn silence and support. You’re here to make me look good. To support my career in every fuckin’ way. And you’re here running your whore mouth saying you’ll be happy I’ll fail?” He grabbed her chin roughly, forcing her head up to look at him. “Is that what I paid you for, whore?” After her tears had been blinked away and her vision cleared, Abby found that Chip had left her line of sight with no apology or sign of remorse. She sits in her chair, all her senses dulled. She was startled out of her stupor twenty minutes later by Olivia calling back to ask what was wrong. She told Liv not to call ever again before hanging up. Abby absently cleaned up the spilt wine before standing up and walking through the master bedroom and into the bathroom. She saw Chip out of her periphery, reading on his iPad atop the creamy satin sheets and hurried past him and into the bathroom. The angry red handprint her husband had left on her face had faded into a faint but sickly purple bruise on her cheekbone and cheek. She felt completely detached from her physical self, observing her hand raising up to touch the mark through the lens of a stranger. Though she watched the mirror, her brain struggled to process that Chip had entered the bathroom until his arms wrapped around her. Previously utterly numb, an overwhelming wave of exhaustion and defeat threatened to drown her and Abby went lax into her husband’s arms, barely processing the whispered apologies he pressed into her skin with his lips. _Stressful day. So sorry. Trouble on the Hill. Can’t have — we’re not a unit. We’re a family. — one time mistake. Didn’t mean it. Never again._ She catches snippets of what he’s saying before she cuts him off, “it’s fine, Chip. I understand. I’m sorry.”

His strong arms leave her body and she hears the sound of his clothes rasping against hers in the stark silence before he stands to face her at the door. “I’ll leave you to wash up. Come to bed when you’re done, baby.” Abby felt herself nod before she turned the faucet on, lowering her face to the sink. When she had finished washing up and changing into one of the numerous silk negligees Charles had insisted she wear to bed when they first got married, she saw that the lights in the bedroom had been turned off. She lifts the edge of the covers, careful not to disturb the sheets too much before sinking into bed and letting the darkness swallow her.


End file.
